


mille fleur

by hoshlatte



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Kinda fluff, M/M, angsty (?), meanie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 21:31:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11366025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoshlatte/pseuds/hoshlatte
Summary: flowers and several heartstrings creating a euphonious harmony.a meanie fic.





	mille fleur

i. 

The start of his third year studying Literature wasn't that extramundane. His routine is as monotonous as everyone thinks—waking up earlier than the daybreak, preparing himself and his leather bag full of books,  crumpled and scribbled papers, spends hours reading, analyzing and appreciating literary works, sleeping in between of gigantesque shelves on books during his breaks, weaves his own poetry yet he loved it. His undying passion can defy every impossibilities. As he sigh fumes of exhaustion, his body longing for his cozy bed, he immediately walked straight to his locker to leave his things and walk ahead to his favorite café, blocks away from his university. 

A small post-it note and a sketch of thornless rose welcomed him. Strangely surprised, Wonwoo adjusted his spectacles and read the note. 

'In the langue of flowers, a thornless rose means love at first sight. Wonwoo, you won't probably believe but I think I am falling down to a cliff called Love.' 

As he finishes the letter, he chuckled wondering if the sender put it on the wrong locker. He really loved flowers as much as his books. He actually owned a small paradise of flora bursting spectrums as beams of sunlight shines upon them—his sanctuary. 

With a clank, he closed his locker. He placed the flowers inside his bag. Still confused, puzzling questions keep on popping on his mind. He never had any assertions who left it but this was his first time: smiling as bright as the crimson flower he received. 

ii. 

He kept on receiving sketches of flowers with variants of hue, specie and meaning. It made him reevaluate himself, "What does the sender found in me?"  Their identity quite bothers him but he really appreciates their effort. 

He noticed that the artworks keep on coming every Tuesday before his last classes end. Last week, nothing welcomed him. Wonwoo tried not to expect to receive something today yet he have this little spark of hope in his heart; wanting to see another work of art bursting polychromatic shades. 

As he walked toward where his locker located, an unknown guy was hastily running away as soon as he came. He might know them, he might not. He wasn't wearing his eyeglasses so he barely sees everything. What if they are the one sending letters? 

He immediately opened his locker, wishing he could see something special inside. A small paper is inserted at the side of this locker's door. Taking a closer look, it is a sketch of gardenias secured by a hand. He turned the paper around, checking if there is a note. 

"How are you? It seems like you've doing a lot nowadays. In the flower's dictionary, gardenias mean growing love. Someday, I'll finally let you know I am and give you real flowers, not just drawings. Someday." 

Clueless, myriad hues of scarlet are painted on his cheeks.  "I really wonder who they are." 

He reached his small, cozy house earlier than before. He pinned the sketch juxtaposed with the other masterpiece and some photographs he took before. Drowning in beauty of the gardenias, a smile bloomed on his face. Little did he know, a flower he never planted on his heart starts to grow. Love. 

iii. 

Last morning before the beginning of their Winter break, he's fixing his list of books to read in the midst of pristine, crystallized world. With his fashioned winter clothes bringing him warmth, he opened his locker to get his latte-stained journals; something inside left him enthralled. This time around, it wasn't a simple sketch but a painting of dozens of moss rosebuds tucked in a pocket. He saw another note, earlier than its usual time sent and read it as the sunlight struck to his well-chiseled face. 

'After seventeen weeks of looking at you from afar, I finally had the confidence to express how your name defined in my dictionary—beauty. Moss rosebuds means confession. I do really adore you more than much. Can we meet in the university's garden? I'll wait for you before the moon shines the dark, starry horizons. I hope you could come.' 

The boy was left in astonishment, torn between coming or not. First, he do not want end up breaking someone's heart he never knew yet he still have this idea that maybe this is just someone trying to play around with him. Wonwoo knew how an avalanche of pain rampages, and he didn't want it any heartbreak inflict to someone anymore. 

The bell rang, sign of his first class starting soon. He hurried to the building's fourth floor and tried to focus on his Creative Writing class. Well, he tried. 

As soon as his afternoon classes started, not meeting this mysterious man swiftly crossed to his mind but he ignored it. Time passes by him slower than the usual. All he wanted is: Moon beams its light to his exhausted-stricken body and went to a deep, peaceful slumber. 

He found himself walking to the said place. He didn't really expected someone who confessed to him will be really there. A mere silhouette greeted him in this field of daffodils. His whole system applauding for the man's bravery. He really appreciated that, waiting for him as the Sun falls down. 

He tried recognizing the boy if he ever met him before—a son of Aphrodite. Greater than 180 centimeter in height, handsome, with a well-sculpted figure, tantalizing eyes, plus his exceptional talent. He is basically the overqualified Jeon Wonwoo ideal type. The familiarity was there but living for twenty years in these oceans of various human beings, he couldn't really name him. 

"Hey," the boy said hesitantly. Reaching out his inner poet, he constructed every sentences of admiration, turning it to novel of sweetly silver novel expressing his love as much as he could do. "I-I’m Mingyu, Kim Mingyu. A Fine Arts student, the one who's sending you sketches. I'm honestly clueless how does a confession works but I just wanted to tell you that I like you." 

Mingyu's face turned into flattering shades of reds. Unsure if he's doing well or the person he loves will reject him for being such a useless human, not even making a confession flow smoothly as it is. 

Wonwoo can't help but to chuckle how cute this guy in front of him. He looks like a lost puppy, trying to find his way back home, seeking help to him yet no lies can't hide the truth about him endearing the taller boy’s unfathomable beauty. 

"I don't know that much about you but it won't really hurt for me getting to know more about you. I'm giving Wonwoo and Mingyu being a thing a chance." 

iv. 

Day by day, they started to know their compositions and anatomy more and more. They traced, left sketches of pencils on their papers, cartographing a map where every strokes of lines and navigations leads to themselves alone. Yet they chose to get lost in reality. Leading to each other's world, delving into the wonders behind it. 

One day, Mingyu brought the older boy to his small place once he called home before Wonwoo. It is a small room above a flower shop ran by a two couple succeeding love and life. They took care of Mingyu as he started living in these seas of skyscrapers and buildings all reaching the skies. "Jeonghan-hyung, Seungcheol-hyung! We have a visitor." he said. 

The couple welcomed him wholeheartedly like same bloodline was flowing through their veins. Seungcheol is a cousin of Gyu. Ever since he studied in their university, he started living with him for a while to avoid overpriced dorms as he stays here and to bond with his special cousin. 

The couple left them for a while since they were busy since February was fast approaching. More customers need to be accommodated, preparing a surprise for their loved ones for Valentine's day. 

I looked around his home, examining his things. This paint-splashed white walls embracing us is his own little world. He noticed a quite large canvass, leaning to the walls, covered with a white cloth. With the thought of it is probably a requirement for his class, his curiosity pushed him to remove the cloth and see what’s behind. Not until the taller boy gave him a hug from the back, intertwining his arms around the older boy's body, showing no traces of letting go even for a millisecond. Mingyu dragged him away from the concealed canvass. 

"You'll see it soon, okay? But not today, I don't want to see it unfinished or something-" He planted a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving Wonwoo with hues of crimson on his face. He still can't believe that after twenty years of living, only a Kim Mingyu will break his colossal walls, hiding his emotions apart. 

Wonwoo exhaled a bit frustrated sigh. He would love to see the art that an art made. He just smiled at the boy, a sign of surrending. Wondering if it's something special that Mingyu doesn't let him to see it. 

Before the day ends, they treated themselves in Wonwoo's favorite coffeeshop. Wonwoo sip his coffee with love and there's the younger boy scribbling his pen in the brown tissue they got in the café. He spent less than 15 minutes without speaking to anyone. Focused on what he is creating. 

"And I'm done!" He proudly presented his quick sketch to his sweetest downfall and looked at him full of love. It is a figure of a man, resembling Mingyu. From its facial features up to his grin brighter than the sunlight, Wonwoo can't get this wrong. The man in the sketch are holding asters, hiding it from his back. 

"And asters are?" He asked. He knew nothing about the language of flowers, too ravishing for a Jeon Wonwoo to comprehend its beauty like the man in front of him. 

"Symbol of love." Unlike before, he explained nothing more, nothing less. Certainly assured that his love which travelled for light years finally reached his farthest star, Wonwoo and his heart playing a mellifluous etude entitled Kim Mingyu. 

v. 

The seventeenth of July finally came. A special day for the couple with their heartstrings resounding the same harmony. 

"Good afternoon, my sunshine."

Mingyu brought nothing on their date such as a present or anything. He pouted a little, wondering if he forgot buying a gift for him. 

They went to an amusement park to celebrate Wonwoo’s birthday. They rode roller coasters, ferris wheel and a carousel. Wonwoo can’t believe a 180 plus centimeter human being would insist him to ride a merry-go-round. The two of them took thousand of photos together, laughing at each other. Every photographs taken may fade yet it is now framed in their minds, preserved and will not be forgetting by them no matter what. Both of them are enjoying this day too much. Neither Mingyu nor Wonwoo would like to end this day. 

Before the day ends, Mingyu sent Wonwoo home safely. As they reached the doorsteps, without knowing, the taller boy blindfolded Wonwoo. “Shh, do not worry, I am always here beside you.” 

He assisted Wonwoo as they entered the house. Excitement is rushing to his bloodstreams, leaving his cheeks flushed. This is the first time someone made him this special on his birthday. “You can now remove it.” 

Wonwoo untangled the blindfold covering his eyes. Something wonderful made him stuck in such amazement. It is a huge painting of a sea of yellow daffodils dancing in the lush green meadows against the oceans of yellow and orange, vast skies. Familiar as it is, this is where they first met. The place where Kim Mingyu expressed his love for his Jeon Wonwoo without any sketches nor letters. It is just him, and his words as poems and his love creating its rhymes. 

“How did you make this we are on an amusement park a while ago-“ the boy asked with confusion in his mind. 

“Our friends help us to surprise today. I hope you reaally loved it.” Mingyu smiled at him, its luminosity as bright as the sparks of a bursting supernova. 

Wordlessly, Wonwoo's tears cascading wildly down to his cheeks. No playwright can describe his happiness right now. He was too drown in bliss to utter a word. He hugged Mingyu tightly, not leaving an part of him not feeling his warmth and gratitude. Someone like him do not deserve a Kim Mingyu in his life, he thought. 

“Did I love you too artistically for you to create this work of art?” 

“No matter how beautiful the art of letting go, I’ll never hurt you too creatively.” 

vi.  
Three years passed their relationship by quickly yet their love for their each other grew stronger, founded by pillars of strength that nothing can break apart. They graduated with degrees, found a job that could sustain more than their daily needs. Both of them finally moved in together. A serene life that the two of them ever dreamed of. 

Wonwoo, coming home from his work, traces of tiredness visible through looking in his deep, swirling hurricanes in his irises. 

Mingyu welcomed him a short, passionate kiss. They only haven’t met for twelve hours yet they missed each other’s everything. They shared dinner and conversations like tomorrow won’t come. 

3AM, still awake. Wonwoo looked at their vase of forget-me-not in his desk, gently held Mingyu’s hands and intertwined their fingers with each other. He raised it upwards, looking at their fingers, that maybe someday they will finally put the rings they both ever dreamed of. 

He broke them defeaning silence between them. “Can we stay like this forever?” 

Mingyu just smiled at him, interlocking their fingers together tighter, giving him an assurance. “Yes, we will.” His eyes  full of certainty while looking to his favorite uncertainty. They spent the left remaining hours before dawn, sleeping with each other’s presence. Not wanting the silver Moon fall down anymore. 

vii. 

Mingyu woke up late today. Good thing it’s his day-off so he didn’t need to rush anything. Instead of spending his whole day on hid bed, he decided to draw Wonwoo a portrait of him, nothing really special is happening today. He just wanted to appreciate an artwork called Jeon Wonwoo, the masterpiece he really loved the most. 

This is the first time Wonwoo pinned a photo of purple hyacinths in Mingyu’s paint-stained palettes and brushes. There’s a letter messily written at the back of the photograph in blue ink. 

'I am going home late, I’m sorry baby. I already prepared you a breakfast. Have an amazing day. I love you.'

He really appreciated it but he felt something wrong with the hyacinths. 

His phone rang, an unknown number called him. It made him feel a little indifferent yet he still answered it. 

“Hello? Who’s this? Wait. W-what happened? Okay, calm down. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” 

Mingyu’s whole system was awaken. He changed his clothes without saying anything where he will be going. As soon as he arrived at the building, he immediately find Wonwoo in these rooms hoping that he is fine. 

A nurse brought him to a room. Wonwoo is inside, pale and his lips chapped. His condition brought 

He kissed Wonwoo in his forehead and he smiled. Mingyu has a lot of questions for him, asking what happened to him. His condition made him sank in a blackhole of regrets. It feels like he is failing to be his guardian–to keep Wonwoo protected every minute. 

“Everything will be fine soon,” he prayed to the heavens. He didn't want Wonwoo to depart as soon as this. He just wanted to be with him until the sweetest sorrow part them. 

viii. 

On their fifth anniversary, the day they never thought would happen too soon. Everyone’s in white, including them. Mingyu is shedding tears in front of an altar. He’s holding a stems of lily of the valley with two hands with knees trying to stand steadily. 

He tries to smile, he really does. 

He sets the flowers above Wonwoo’s coffin, ignoring every trails of melancholy on his face with the sleeves of his button-down. 

“Happy fifth anniversary, my Wonwoo. It is better spending it if you are beside me: sharing smiles, both fascinated how ravishing the skies. Sadly, I am all alone here. I brought you lilies of the valley. The flower defining eternal love. Always remember that my love for you is as boundless as the cosmic void, as bright as Venus, and as infinite as the scintillating constellations above me. We will meet soon in the afterlife, okay? I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO! This is my first time writing a fic and completed it. *confetti* I know my writing style still needs a l o o o o o o t of improvements. Plus the fact the latter part of the story suddenly became shitty bc it's kinda rushed. HAHAHAHA I'll try to work harder and please do not forget to shoot me arrows of constructive criticisms, I would like to know what you liked/not liked and try to make it better! Thank you. I hope you enjoyed reading my work. 'Til the next fics! :~)


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